


1, 2, 3, you're my baby

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie's POTS Server Stocking Fills 2019 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, M/M, Nightmares, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Steve Rogers Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Superfamily, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21872083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Tony should have been home three whole days ago, and as many other things do, it's at night that Peter and Steve's worry rears its ugly head in the most unavoidable way.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Marie's POTS Server Stocking Fills 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560796
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122
Collections: POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019





	1, 2, 3, you're my baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avengersandco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersandco/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [avengersandco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersandco/pseuds/avengersandco) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> Hey hey hey, or should I say, ho ho ho, here is a gift for you dear, I hope you'll enjoy it!

Steve was on his fourth cup of tea, eleventh spoon of honey, gaze lost outside the windows of their aisle of the compound, into the dark light of the night when he heard it. A faint cry down the hallway, probably too faint for unenhanced ears to pick up on - he heard it as if it'd been issued right next to him. 

  
He abandoned his mug on a side table, biting his lip as he frowned and made his way to Peter's room. All his sensors on alert, the noise didn't stop. 

  
Steve went to push the door Peter normally never closed completely and found that he couldn't. He turned the handle and opened it, a few questions turning into many, many more in his mind as he finally caught a glimpse of his son, face smashed into his pillow and thin limbs writhing under the covers as he kept sobbing in his sleep. Steve's feet carried him across the room and to Peter's side in a blur, one of his hands settling at the top of Peter's back. 

  
"Hey, Pete, Pete you need to wake up, baby," Steve grasped Peter's shoulder, gently shaking him awake. "Wake up, Bug."

  
Another sob broke from Peter's lips before his lashes fluttered and he opened his eyes in a start. 

  
"Pop?" His voice was rough and it's only then that Steve realized his cheeks were shiny with tears. 

  
"You were having a nightmare, hon." Steve whispered, "Friday?" 

  
The A.I. wordlessly turned on the lowest lights. They bathed the room in a warm glow that highlighted the blotches of red that spanned Peter's cheeks and neck and Steve took in a sharp breath. 

  
"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?" He asked even if he had a feeling he knew the answer, had known it for days even if Peter was very careful not to let his anguish show - too careful. 

  
He was right, and yet, hearing it in his son's voice, with Peter's face contorting around yet another sob, his repressed fear choosing the middle of the night to finally show its ugly head, it tore at Steve's heart in a way nothing else could. 

  
"Dad," Peter murmured, as if he was afraid to even say what his mind had been picturing, "in space, lost, alone." 

  
Steve growled under his breath, the exact same image had been haunting him for over 72 hours, every minute that Tony should have been home from Asgard, killing him slowly. He couldn't handle seeing his son looking as broken as they both felt so he sat on the bed, pushing and pulling Peter and the covers until he was half-sitting, half-laying, and Peter was draped over him. 

  
"He'll come back, love, I'm sure, all we have to do is sit tight, hug tight and think happy thoughts, and he'll be home before we can worry our last nerve, okay?" Steve hugged Peter tight to his chest, his frail teenage form a web of wiry limbs that squeezed with all its spidey might and didn't let go. Peter nodded against his neck, silent tears slowing but still rolling down his cheeks. 

  
"I didn't… I didn't want to show I was worried, didn't want to worry you more." Peter admitted after they spent a while just holding each other. 

  
Steve frowned at that. It was nothing new, Peter trying to spare the people around him at his own expense but… 

  
"That's not how it works, champ," Steve straightened up enough that he could force eye contact with Peter. "You're allowed all the feelings you have, and I want you to share them with me, even if that's only so we can worry together. You're our son, Pete, my baby, do you know what that means?" 

  
"I get to show off at school 'cause my dads are superheroes?" Peter tried to joke though his voice was still dry with tears - very Tony. 

  
"That too, but, no, that means it's not your job to make sure I'm okay, or Dad's okay, it's ours. Our role is to make sure you're happy, and cared for, and safe, and stopping yourself from sharing your feelings makes it so I can't do that properly, you see?" 

  
Steve studied the look in his son's deep brown eyes, the clever light in them that was only deemed by how late it was and how scared he felt. Peter nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he staved off more tears. 

  
"I'm fucking terrified, Pop." 

  
Steve bit his lip again, nodding faintly, "Me too, Bug, me too. Thank you for telling me." He pushed a stray lock behind Peter's ear, brushing a thumb over his cheek to dry his remaining tears. "What do you say I stay here tonight? We both need to sleep, and this way we'll keep the nightmares away, yeah?" 

  
"Yeah," Peter said, "yeah, I'd like that, just like when I was a little kid."

  
"You'll always be my little kid, you know, even if you don't like it." Steve winked, happy to see Peter's lips form a small smile. 

  
"I know." 

  
"Good, c'mere, let's try to get back to sleep, Friday will wake us up if Dad comes back, right Fri?" 

  
"Of course, Captain." 

  
"Thank you, Friday." Peter yawned and resettled against Steve's chest. 

  
He fell back asleep within minutes, the slow rise and fall of his back soothing Steve just enough that he could breathe a little better but not allowing him the rest he knew he needed. He couldn't let go, couldn't bring himself to close his eyes with the thought that Tony might be out there, lost. He still asked Friday to turn the lights back off, gazing out the window in much the same way he'd been doing back in the living room, and taking comfort in the weight of Peter against his side. 

  
He must have fallen asleep at some point though, because the next thing Steve became aware of wasn't the color of the sky turning purple, or pink, or orange the way he'd watched it do the last two nights, but the sensation of fingers tracing the lines of his forehead, and jaw, and cheekbones. 

  
He crinkled his nose as he reluctantly opened his eyes. And grinned, sleepily but so fast and wide his skin ached from the pull. 

  
"Tony," Steve remembered Peter was sleeping right against him at the last second and was going to shake him awake when Tony raised his hand. 

  
"Let him sleep some more." 

  
He looked tired, and a bit rough around the edges but nothing about him made Steve concerned for his health. Tony shucked his jacket off and onto Peter's desk chair before rounding the bed and getting inside the covers. 

  
"Nighty night, Steven." He whispered as he passed an arm around Peter's midsection and breathed in his pillow, blowing Steve a kiss above Peter's mess of curls and letting his eyes fall shut. 

  
"Good to have you home, sweetheart."


End file.
